#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 7)

May 25

AHHH!!! Alrite, part 7 - you guys ready? Cause I'm not, hahaha. This part of the story is the worst, er rather my least favorite. There is just absolutely NOTHING pleasant about this story, however it is touching me very very very deeply reading all of your comments, emails, and tweets - thank you. I am sorry so many of you can relate, but at the same time grateful for the share, and equally ready to hear from you all as well.

First off, if you haven't caught up, here's part one, part two, part three, part four, part five and part six. Basically, I was the first person in Connecticut to get a restraining order in a non-sexual relationship. Not something I'm exactly going to get a plaque for and put on my wall, but considering in a week I will be back in CT, this is something I wanted to address.

Alrite, lemme get a song up ...

So, after graduation I was feeling ridiculously proud of myself. For reals, I let these girls take away my power for EIGHT MONTHS, I certainly wasn't going to let them take away 12 years of my hard work. SERIOUSLY!!! I may not have had a lot of friends in school, but I ALWAYS had my grades. Like always. always. always. My world could have crumbled, but I would have still been sitting there doing my homework. I worked very. very. very. hard. To hell if I was going to let ANYONE take that away from me - I was very literally willing to die for it. Clearly.

Less than a week after graduation, I moved to NYC. I can not begin to tell you how UNBELIEVABLY relieved I was to be out of Connecticut - for good.

I remember that weekend, my brother helped me move into my studio in Manhattan, and that Sunday when he left to go back home I sat on my bed for a solid hour and just cried. and cried. and cried.

I was so grateful to be out of West Hartford, and far away from those girls - but I was also scared. I go from a situation like THAT to moving to NYC at SEVENTEEN?!?!! Who does this?!?!

Apparently me.

A week later I started classes at the Lee Strasberg Theater Institute, and was happier than a pig in shit. No, like literally.

The classes at Strasberg were very very very intense, but something that I desperately needed in my life at that point; Strasberg teaches the world famous "method." You become the character, you live the character and you use life experience and sense memory to get you into the character. Life experience? OOHHH that I got!!!

Acting was my therapy.

I wasn't too long into my classes before I had to go back to Connecticut - this time, for the trial.

There are two courts where a person can be sued, criminal and civil. Criminal is obviously the district attorney trying to plead their case beyond a reasonable doubt, and civil is won if it seems more likely than not. Civil is about the money, and criminal is about the crimmmmmeeeee.

K, so first up was criminal - and I kid you not, out of EVERYTHING these girls put me through, the trial was the worst part of it all. You have to prepare for weeks beforehand, and dude, my dad was on my legal team ... my own father had to question me on things like sexuality and drug use. I was SUCH a goody two shoes, but even having sex once and making out with some boys felt so dirty, who at SEVENTEEN has to tell things like that to their father. Oh, and I smoked pot twice. Dude, I was ALWAYS the mother of the group, I don't even think I got high. Plus too, you have to understand, I was SOOOOOOOOO motivated my entire young adult life to get good grades because I knew the implication it had on my future. I wasn't about to jeopardize anything. Drug use, at that age, no bueno para mi. But either way, I totally had to address all of that with my own father, and my father's good friend. SOOO WEEEIIIIRRRRRRDDD!!!

I remember meeting with the juvenille advocate numerous times, and he just kept telling me to speak from the heart. Speak from the heart.

I asked how I could do that when the girls were going to be RIGHT there, in the court room!!!

You can do it. You've gotten this far.

I remember walking into court that day with my mom, dad, and brother ... I was shaking. I am about to testify - like go up there ... on the stand ... holy fuck this isn't a Lifetime movie - this is me! My life! My story!! WOOOOWWWW.

I hear Amber and Sarah come in, but I don't look over.

(I don't know why we didn't prosecute Valerie. She might have signed a permanent restraining order at that point, I'm not sure. She didn't have the money to even hire an attorney - that I do remember.)

All rise.

The judge walks in.

Please be seated.

I stare at the judge, the same judge that has seen these girls in and out of court for MONTHS at that point. He says something, then I hear - Jennifer Friel, please come to the stand.

I stand up, walk past Amber and Sarah and think, you are going DOWNNNN!!!!!!!!!

I place my hand on the bible and get sworn in.

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?

Yes.

Please be seated.

Our side questioned me first. So Ms. Friel, tell me about your relationship with Amber and Sarah.

I told him (see parts 1 and 2).

And are you still friends with them now?

I start to tear up and say no.

Tell us, why?

I don't know why to be honest. We got into a fight and it kept escalating. I never. ever. meant for anything like this to happen. I loved them, deeply.

He questioned me for a solid 30 minutes on the entire story, and each instance of harassment. I couldn't stop balling. I'm not even talking about tears, I am talking about needing to take a series of breaks because I was crying so hard.

I remember sitting on that stand looking directly out at my mother, and she was hysterical. She couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth - it made it all that much harder.

I remember glancing over at Amber and Sarah with their shit eating grins ... Amber in particular I remember. They kept calling her and Sarah the ringleaders in this ... I kept getting so lightheaded, but I reminded myself to stay focused on each question coming out of his mouth and not the emotion attached to the words.

You can do this Jen ... keep it up. Think of this as a part for acting - this is all just a stage, and this is just a character you are playing.

I barely made it through my own team's questions, but somehow I managed to pull through. Detailing each bit of that emotional journey not only in front of my parents, but in front of the people that did this to me? The satisfaction they must be getting?!?! Oh fuck this ... and fuck you ... you are going DOWN!!!

Their attorney started questioning me. Suckol (sp?) was his name. The dude looked like a cheesy used car salesman with his greasy matted curly hair, and suit the color of turtle poop. He was a walking, talking, greaseball - just no other word for it. In the story of this man's life, Michael Lohan would play him. Get it?

EEEEEWWWWWEEEE! To this day I totes get the heeby jeebs.

His line of questioning began. They first attacked my character asking about boys I had dated.

I laughed, staying composed - wait, all two of them? I'm a nerd you fucking idiot.

Amber and Sarah apparently wanted to concoct this story that I was secretly this manipulative bitch that pretended to be so goody goody but was secretly hoe-ing myself out to half of West Hartford. High-larious. But again, something I was faced with, and the truth shall always set you free.

I had nothing to hide. Everytime he asked me about certain boys or certain situations, my answer was always the same - No.

::mimics Clinton:: I did not have sexual relations with that womannnn.

It was so ridiculous, but I stayed FREAKISHLY composed during the entire line of questioning.

Like, no - literally. I was balling my eyes out when my own attorneys who were like my heros were questioning me - but when this sleaze ball started grillin, I gave very curt, emotionless answers.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

I had nothing to hide in regards to these girls; I did NOTHING wrong. The hardest part about the trial though was that they were right there ... hearing every bit of torture that they did to me. That angered me so so much.

I remember when it was all over sitting back down in my seat. I don't remember anyone else taking the stand (although they did), I just remember leaving my body. I was literally under so much stress at that point, I couldn't handle any more.

I sat in the courtroom with a vacancy sign on my forehead.

I can't tell you all the outcome of the case on the criminal side, or the civil side as per the agreement that I signed not disclosing that information.

I can say that my dad and Owen successfully attained LIFETIME restraining orders (COMPLETELY unheard of btw) from all 4 girls keeping them all at least 350 yards away from me, for the REST of their lives, with no contact direct or indirect. (And when all was said and done my mom, dad, brother and I went on an epic trip to Mexico. BAILAMOS!)

After the trial, I went back to NY and back to acting - my therapy.

I was a full time student, so I threw myself into their program and even got invited into the advanced class on Wednesdays due to my sheer commitment, and drive.

I didn't know how I was going to emotionally process what I had just experienced, but I knew if I could commit to the craft, it could at least help me work through some things.

Acting was amazing for me. Incredibly. Incredibly. Incredibly therapeutic - but not enough. Just shy of my 18th birthday I also started therapy. I had also been on the anti-depressant Zoloft as our family doctor had diagnosed me with chronic depression not long after all of the stalking began.

I was such a sad human being at that time. I hadn't even processed losing all of those family members, let alone everything that happened with the girls. I was just ... lost.

That depression didn't go away ... at all ... for 8 years.

Yep, 8 years.

I can't handle feeling unhappy for 8 MINUTES of my life - but it's only because I spent so so so many years letting this story take control of me; I lost my power. This website gave it back to me.

This website LITERALLY means everything to me. I cannot stress this enough!! I did this! I used Foursquare, location based social media, to post my location even after having FOUR STALKERS!!!! The funny thing about that is that people don't ever care that you've checked in! The taunting was the thing the stalkers wanted to do. When you stop living in the fear of it all, and start facing the reality of the situation, it's really not that bad.

I lead a transparent life now; it freed me.

I used to live in such fear of someone finding out where I was, or who I was with - now I freely publish it. By being so honest, it takes away the thrill of it.

And furthermore, if they WERE to ever show up, I now know how to fire a gun, throw and take a punch, and have even pulled a knife on someone and had they not run away - been perfectly fine in using it.

I am psychotic.

I assure you, I know this - but the thing is, it works for me. I have never felt so strong in all of my life than I do with this website, and with all of you standing behind me.

This is why I do what I do, and this is why I won't stop. I CAN'T STOP!! Even if I wanted to in any capacity ... I am completely incapable of it.

I survived something deeply horrific, but so what. It is, and it always will be. The thing I am the proudest of is that I pulled myself up out of that depression. That part happened because of social media!!! See, when you're depressed you're not even conscious of the depression (or at least I wasn't). I always slapped a smile on my face, and had a pretty sunny disposition - but on the inside, I hated who I was and hated everything I had become. My family didn't like me growing up, my only 2 best friends my entire life turned into stalkers - WHHHAAATT ISSS WRROONNNGG WIITTHHH MEEE!!!

By posting all of my statuses on Facebook, Twitter, and even back in the day Myspace - I started to recognize patterns. I said all of these things that I thought I was, but when I read them in black and white, the stories didn't match up.

This website saved my life. No doubt about it. Each and every one of you that reads this, I just wanna like make out with you!!! But then I'd prolly end up with herpes and there's nothing cute about a cold sore.

Please please please, if you've ever been through something similar, just start a friggen blog. Document what you're feeling and then re-read it for psychoanalysis. After YEARSSSS spent in therapy and YEAARRRSS spent on medication, this was the absolute ONLY thing that worked for me.

I can't thank you all enough for letting me share this story with you. I am happy to report that I spoke to the juvenile advocate a couple years ago, and he said literally COUNTLESS girls have received restraining orders from same sex stalkers since now there was a precedent set.

My father is my hero ... and a hero now to countless others.

Thanks, Dad! 143